Butterfly
by Isha-libran
Summary: He had caught a butterfly in the palm of his hand, but now the time had come for it to take to the skies again.


Title: Butterfly

Ship: Sesshomaru/Rin

Word Count: 1,657

Timeline: Very post-Naraku.

Warning: Character death. Slight spoilers for Manga episodes 468-471

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Don't sue me, thanks.

--

The silver haired hanyou gracefully landed on the ground, the sleeves of his _haori_ fluttering behind him in the breeze that sprang up around him. With an effort, he tamped down the emotions threatening to overwhelm him, and the winds buffeting him died down.

He did not particularly relish the idea of meeting the Lord of the West at this moment.

With a quick sigh, he strode forward, hand on the hilt of his sword, as always. His face was impassive, but the storm brewing in his golden eyes warned the other inhabitants of the castle away from him.

'You're back?'

He stopped at the cry, turning to face the speaker. Jaken was clutching his staff with both hands; his whole mein was one of intermingled hope and despair.

'Any luck?'

The grip on The Staff of Two Heads grew white knuckled as the toad demon waited for a reply.

He shook his head, and the little demon seemed to deflate before his very eyes. He didn't stop to hear what the youkai had to say to him, he strode on, making for the inner rooms, where the lord of the castle waited.

He stopped outside the door to the room, listening for a moment. He could hear the soft murmur of voices inside. Letting out an unconscious breath of relief, he gently slid the door open.

'Brother!'

He saw the hope shining in those eyes, and he felt his own heart break as he shook his head, and the light went out of them.

There was a sharply indrawn breath, so slight that he wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been half youkai.

'Father…'

His father held up a hand for silence, and he obeyed, feeling wretched as he saw him give up this hope, as well.

'You are sure?'

There was no tremor in the voice, but his own shook anyway. 'Yes,' he whispered, his hair falling around him as he bowed his head.

In a convulsive movement, his father clenched his hand on the hilt of his sword, and he shivered at the sudden rush of furious _jyaki_ that surrounded all of them.

'My lord?'

They turned at the faint voice, and his father was by the side of the futon so fast that he was blur.

He took her hand in his, and his voice was gentle as he answered.

'Yes, Rin?'

'It won't be long now, my lord.'

'Hush,' he bit out harshly. 'Do not say such ridiculous things, Rin. You will not leave us.'

'Yes, mother,' his sister cried. 'Father and Brother have been looking for some way to save you, I'm sure they'll find something soon—you just have to hold on a little longer!'

She shook her head on the pillow, silvery grey hair falling around her. 'No, my dear. My time has come now. I have cheated death twice, which is more than I deserved. I cannot stay any longer.'

'Rin—'

'Forgive me, my lord,' she said, her voice soft. 'But this once, I cannot obey you.'

'You will not leave me, Rin,' his father ground out, his voice a low rasp. 'I will not allow it. _I will not allow it_.'

She said nothing, lifting a hand to trace her fingers over his features, while her husband turned his face into her palm.

He looked at his sister, feeling a little uncomfortable. It was well known that the Lord and Lady of the Western Lands had a deep, abiding love running between them, but it was the first time they had seen such a direct demonstration of it.

That love had burned true for over seventy years, but now it seemed that their love story was finally drawing to a close.

'My children.'

He hurried forward to his mother's side, and his sister clung to his arm as they both knelt to face her.

'I am so proud of you both,' she whispered softly, her eyes brimming with tears. 'You have brought untold joy to my life—you have truly been my gifts.'

His sister started to cry with the sharp gasps of those who cried very rarely, and he felt his own eyes mist. He put his arm around her, and welcomed the pain as her claws dug into his arm. He glanced quickly at his father to see what he thought of this display of emotion, but the Lord of the West was still looking at his dying wife.

'Take care of each other,' she went on, and they both nodded. 'I expect you both to continue to come home for every festival,' she added, with a momentary return of spirit, and he was surprised into a bark of laughter.

'Mother,' he said gruffly, as he had always replied to this order from her, 'You cannot order us around any more, we are both full grown now and we are no more pups.'

'You're wrong,' she replied with a loving smile. 'You will always be my pups…my beautiful, wonderful pups.'

His throat closed up, and he buried his face in his mother's sleeve as he used to when he had _really_ been but a pup, sobbing his heart out.

His mother passed her hands through his hair, soothing them both with gentle words, and when the storm of grief had passed, they both raised their heads to see that their father had slipped out of the room.

'He never could bear to see any of us in pain,' his mother said sadly. 'My dear, would you call him inside, please?'

His sister nodded, and glided out of the door.

She came in a moment later, with their father on her heels.

--

'What is it, Rin?'

He tried to supress the pounding of his heart and the faint undercurrent of worry in his tone, but she caught it, as she always did.

She took his hand in hers, her thumb sweeping over his skin in the unconscious gesture she used to soothe him whenever he was upset.

'My lord,' she said softly, 'It is time. You_ must_ accept it.'

Sesshomaru shook his head mutely, his throat thickening. 'You cannot leave me, Rin,' he said, unable to say anything else.

'Oh, my love…' she sighed, pulling his head down to her shoulder, and he went, not caring about weakness and strength and stoicism in that moment. He knew his children had exchanged startled looks at this uncharacteristic show of emotion, but he could not help himself. He only knew that he loved her, and she was going to _leave_ him.

'Rin—' he gasped, and he felt her tears run into his hair, even as she ran her gnarled hands—but still beautiful, _always_ beautiful to him—through the strands. 'Rin…'

The tears fell from his own eyes, then, and even as he knew that he would wade through rivers of blood to keep her with him, he finally realised that he could not change the inevitable.

He had caught a butterfly in the palm of his hand, but now the time had come for it to take to the skies again.

Eventually, their tears ran dry, but he remained where he was, and she continued to run her gentle fingers through his hair.

'Sesshomaru,' she said softly, and he raised his head. She rarely called him by his name, it had been something reserved for the privacy of their bedchamber.

He ran a gentle hand over her cheek—wrinkles marred her skin now, but his hand still retained the memory of the feel of her skin against his fingertips as it had felt at seventeen, when he had first kissed her.

'Again,' he said softly. He wanted to carve the sound of her saying his name into his heart, for all the lonely years when he would never be called anything but 'lord'.

She smiled gently, understanding. 'Sesshomaru,' she repeated, 'please…say it to me just once, my love.'

His eyes widened. He knew what she meant. He remembered an evening, many years ago, when she had lain in his arms for the first time, and he had whispered softly to her that he was not capable of saying the words just yet, and perhaps he never would, but she would always know how much he loved her with his deeds.

He looked at her now, with the memory of that night shining in her eyes, and for a moment, he saw her youthful face gazing up at him hopefully.

'Please, Sesshomaru.'

'I love you, Rin.'

The words burst out from him without volition; he had never said them before, but now he could not stop them. His daughter gasped behind him, but he ignored it, staring into the brimming eyes of his wife, his love.

'This is not the end, Rin,' he promised her, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. 'We will find each other again, we _will_ be together again.'

She gave him a watery smile, and he bent to kiss her, whispering the words into her open mouth.

'I love you, Rin. Always. _Always_.'

She smiled brilliantly up at him as he drew away, and she whispered to him one last time: 'Until we meet again, Sesshomaru, my love…'

And then she was gone.

Behind him, his pups broke out into uncontrollable tears, but he was unable to turn and face them.

Grim faced, he leapt to his feet, and though Tensaiga did not pulse, he pulled it out of its sheath with a shaky hand. He swiped it blindly through the air, keeping a tight rein on his mounting desperation when he was unable to see the pallbearers of the underworld.

When nothing happened, he dropped the sword, it fell against the wooden floor with a clatter.

Then he was out of the window, transforming in mid jump.

In the room, his children shivered at the sound of the first grief striken howl that pierced the night.

End.

--

A/N: Um, yeah. I don't personally like stories that kill off my OTPs, but I had no choice—this story would _not_ leave me alone.

Also, in case you were wondering: Rin's son was searching for some way to prolong her life, but he was unsuccessful. And Sesshomaru knows that Tensaiga can't resurrect Rin again, but he was too grief stricken not to try.

Let me know what you thought of it, all concrit is very welcome. Thanks for reading. :)


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